


Solitary Pastime

by jdjunkie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode Related, Episode Tag, Episode: s04e08 The First Ones, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-24 09:58:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/938604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In losing Robert, he'd found that he could lean on someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solitary Pastime

**Author's Note:**

> Commentfic written to the prompt The fallout from The First Ones.

"What are you doing?"  
  
Daniel turned to find a pissed-off Jack standing in the locker room doorway.  
  
Daniel reached into the open locker and pulled out a balled-up sweater, frayed woolen gloves and a squashed New York Giants cap. It was all very Robert. He treated artefacts with reverence but treated clothes the way he often treated people, with compete disdain.  
  
"I would have thought it was pretty self-evident. I'm clearing Robert's locker." His hands clenched on the clothing, causing pain to flare in his bandaged wrists. He shoved the clothes into a plastic bag he'd swiped on his way out of the infirmary.  
  
"Fraiser will have your ass if you don't hightail back to your bed right now," Jack said, anger warring with concern. A very Jack-like response, Daniel noted.  
  
"I had to get out of there. I had to ... do something," Daniel said, reaching back into the locker. Several archaeology magazines, a book on Celtic history and what looked like a personal journal were added to the bag. He'd sort through everything properly later.   
  
"It wasn't your fault," Jack said quietly. Daniel could hear what Jack wasn't saying very clearly. _"If you want to blame anyone, blame me. I shot him._  
  
Daniel leaned down and picked up a pair of boots from the bottom of the locker. He plucked at the laces. "I know that. I don't blame myself or anyone else. I brought him into the program but he knew the risks. You did what you had to do."  
  
The boots were caked in mud and Daniel wondered if it was off-world dirt or earth picked up when Robert went hiking in the foothills. Robert liked solitary pastimes. It was one of the many things they'd had in common since their college days.  
  
Jack waved a hand at the locker. "You don't have to do that," he said, sounding distinctly uncomfortable.  
  
"Yes, Jack. I do. I'm going to write to his parents, too." He fiddled with the laces some more.  
  
"That's Hammond's job," Jack said, an edge to his voice.  
  
"Doesn't mean I can't write, too. I owe them that."  
  
Jack turned and closed the locker room door, pushing a heavy abandoned gym bag against it. He walked over to where Daniel stood.  
  
"I'm sorry about your friend," he said, gently. Too gently. Daniel couldn't deal with his sympathy or his concern. He didn't want it, didn't deserve it. But maybe, _maybe,_ he needed it.  
  
Jack seemed to know what he needed. He reached for him and pulled him in, tight and hard. For a second or two, Daniel thought about resisting then decided, for once in his life, to go with what he was feeling; no analyzing, no questioning, just reacting. He melted against the long, comforting length of him. And it was only in that instant that he realized how close he'd come to death, and how that must have made Jack feel.  
  
He realized, too, that in losing Robert he'd found that he could lean on someone; allow himself to be loved, cared for and protected. His personal life didn't have to be another solitary pastime. He pulled Jack closer, breathed in the faded aftershave and clean sweat that had come to mean home, the man's coarse BDU jacket a delicious counterpoint to the welcoming tenderness of his embrace.  
  
"I want you home. I'll square things with Fraiser. I'll make everything okay, I promise," Jack mouthed delicately against Daniel's hair and ear.  
  
Daniel wanted to kiss him so badly. The urge to press his lips to the familiar, warm skin of Jack's neck was overwhelming. He wanted to kiss him hard, wanted to devour him the way he had done three nights ago, before he left for the routine dig on a routine mission that had gone to hell so unexpectedly and so fast.  
  
"It's already okay," Daniel whispered, closing his eyes and letting himself be loved.  
  
ends


End file.
